These were taken on August 10th. It was a perfect day. It was warm enough to be comfortable yet breezy enough to be invigorating. There was a pearly haze in the air. The sky was filled with masses of low, trailing clouds, and the humid air was full of the clay and metal smell of well water sprayed high over the ripening corn and the scent of millions of blackberries ripening. An absolutely quintessential Northwest summer day. Wasn't that paragraph just lyrical as all get out? Of course it was.
I went out to the last gasp of the last road before the international border, where the Cascades start up suddenly from the Fraser River plateau. I'm going to follow this road until it meanders out to its end.
Heading East. This is what constitutes the last bridge over the Sumas River before it runs into Canada, which is over about an acre to the left.
Turning to the right and hanging over the guardrail, we see the Sumas River (or at least one branch of it) as it runs beneath that bridge. This is called Saar Creek depending on what time of the year it is and how hard it's been raining. It's three inches deep and narrow enough to step across here. The bed lies on the blue clay layer this whole valley floats atop. You can make it out through the crystal clear water. It actually is bluish.
This is where the Cascades begin. Imagine the aroma of all this ripening fodder, the corn growing, and the smell of the evergreens coming down out of those hills. It was amazing. I could have stayed out here all day. I've come out here in the past and seen herds of deer going up the rocky sides of this mountain in broad daylight. I'd hoped to see them today. The deer had other plans. Oh well.
Nearing the end of the road now...
The blue flowers are chicory, also called Bachelor's Buttons, that have been mowed. Usually they stand about two feet high.
Up past the last curve, to find a curious horse! I am using all the zoom here because horses kind of freak me out, although this one seemed very chill.
This is it. From here you walk. Where to? North across the border to a very, very small town called Arnold, or straight up East into the Mt. Baker National Forest where a bear will eat you. Or back South across the farmland until a cow eats you.
Now let's turn our backs on this and head back in to Sumas City Limits! Hooray!
Here we are, just past the city limits sign, standing on the bridge over the mighty Sumas River! The river that killed a town! Oh shit it's the Sumas River bridge! What dire peril awaits below this span???What scene of death and tragedy? What swift, gnashing waters running white maned o'er jagged, merciless rocks??! WHAT SCENE OF WRECKAGE AND HEARTBREAK???
Next post:
You had me at your third picture and the description of it. I could lie there all day and take that scent in. And I adore chicory...it grows all over the highway or byways here, intermixed with some yellow flowers and queen Anne Lace. I have stopped and picked some already and have tried to grow some chicory in the garden, but alas...that darn varmint of a yabbit eats it . They remind me of cornflower too.
ReplyDeleteI wish you could have been here to enjoy it!
Delete"Eaten by cows". It's a sort of National Enquirer/Daily Star headline, really. Jx
ReplyDeletePS Good to see "the old place". Not so good to see Bindweed - the most pernicious weed this side of Japanese Knotweed or Horsetail. If it's ever in your garden, only Agent Orange will do...
You're exactly right. And a judicious dab of Dari-Kleen aka Roundup lite, is how I used to take care of the stuff once I caught it in my garden. I have a soft spot in my heart for Giant Knotweed, though...my grandmother loved it and let it grow alongside her barn. I grew up thinking it was the prettiest garden plant! And so tall!
DeleteThe picture of the old place looks like a meticulously curated cottage garden in some fancy gardening magazine.
ReplyDeleteXXXOOO!!!
DeleteI also flinched at the knotweed - damn stuff grows like the clappers. I thought the flower was pretty when I was a kid as well - my mum put me right.
ReplyDeleteSx
When I was a kid we used to go down to this one lowland area and ride our bikes full-tilt boogie through these things. Zillions of little tree frogs would go bounding away like confetti as you crashed through.
Delete